Armored Core: Vendetta
by MidKnight
Summary: When a child lost nearly everything he had in one night, the image of the one responsible was burned into his mind forever. The child never forgave him, and even after reaching adulthood, he was determined to face the demon from his past. Reviews wanted!
1. Chapter 1

Armored Core: Vendetta By Samuel Roberts 

Traffic was horrible.

"Damn it all," Terry Kilpatrick cursed, even though he was sharing the car with a thirteen-year-old. They had an agreement that the child could not curse unless Terry, his uncle, cursed first, and as long as it was on the same subject. "Now we're definitely going to be late!"

"That's alright," The young boy reassured him. "We're usually late anyways."

"Yeah, but just this once I would have liked to arrive _before_ the reunion started!" Terry said, gradually raising his voice as he spoke.

The Kilpatrick family always tried to keep close ties with its members. To that end, their distant relatives began the tradition of meeting at the Setting Sun Hotel in Isaac City each year. To this day, this tradition has not been broken, and the Setting Sun Hotel hasn't yet gone out of business or moved, since it just so happened to be owned by the Kilpatrick family.

Consumed with boredom, the young boy looked out the window to see if the world could present something to arouse his curiosity. Visible from the right was a construction site, which easily attracted his attention since it presented an opportunity for him to see an MT, a universal term for a large robot that was piloted from inside by one person. He scanned the site slowly, trying not to miss any details, but no matter how hard he looked, he still couldn't see one. But just as he was about to give up hope, one suddenly appeared from behind a trailer. Even though it was grey, plain, undecorated and was only made for construction purposes in mind, the child's eyes still widened in awe at the humanoid machine as it walked along. As he watched it, the power of a child's imagination placed him inside of it, controlling it from inside the cockpit. In his mind, he saw himself strapped into the control apparatus, moving it as he moved his own body. Then, the MT would move in a manner that directly emulated his own movements. He could see what the MT saw, and it would obey his every command as he lifted metal bars and ran as fast as a truck. Sights and thoughts such as these seemed to light a fire within the boy's soul, giving him a strong desire to one day pilot an MT for a living when he grew up.

In a sudden strike of curiosity, he tried to remember what his father had called that piloting system. Wasn't it a "Muscle Trace System"? A light bulb lit in his head, and he deduced that MT probably stood for "Muscle Tracer". Then he realized that that couldn't be right. MTs had to have the same basic structure as humans to use that system, otherwise they used a cockpit consisting of a chair and an array of switches, sticks, levers and buttons, and there were many types of MTs that could not use the Muscle Tracer System.

Then he realized that his father would definitely know what MT stood for.

"Is Father going to be there this time, Uncle?" he asked, hoping for a favorable response. His father worked for Progressive Technologies Inc., or ProgTech, as an MT systems developer. He was responsible for developing new subsystems for MTs while at the same time refining currently existing technology. He also doubled as the company's representative in matters concerning standardization and joint research. This sort of job involved a great deal of money, secrecy, and time spent away from home. Unfortunately, that last part and the fact that his mother died of illness two years ago were the reasons why the young boy had to live with his uncle.

"Yep. I called his cell just before we left the house. He said he cleared out his whole schedule for today in advance. He also told me that it looks like _everyone's_ going to be there today."

The boy let out a cheer and surrendered himself to his own playful, childish impulses, restrained only by his seat belt as he celebrated this terrific news.

"Hey! Quit dancing in your seat, David! It's hard enough to keep my sanity in this traffic jam as it is," shouted Terry in a commanding voice.

Little did David know that he wasn't going to be seeing his family today.

"I'm sorry sir, but we cannot let you pass." There was a roadblock just outside of Isaac city's main gate, and about a dozen Guardsmen patrolling the area were not about to let anyone pass. The Guard was a division in each Corporation that was charged with maintaining order, serving citizens, provided courts for trials, and both arresting and rehabilitating criminals. Not every city had the same laws, since not every city was owned by the same Corporation, so in turn not every city's Guard worked the same way.

"Look, Guardsman," which was the polite way to address them. You were expected to show respect, and depending on which city you were in, the cost of forgetting differed. "I need to get to Isaac City. We're both late for a family reunion. It's tradition." Terry said, trying to keep his manners, even though he had half a mind to deck the guy, Guardsman or no. He had always been late for the reunion, and he had strongly promised that he'd be on time this year. However, the traffic jam had set him behind, and he knew that going around this roadblock would make him late for sure.

A pained look flashed for a moment on the Guardsman's face, but he remained firm. He didn't join the Guard Division of Chrome to be a bother, but rather to help his fellow citizens. Moments like these, however, tended to make him second-guess his career choice. "I'm very sorry for the inconvenience sir, but I have orders not to let anyone inside Isaac City at this time. There currently is a disturbance in Northwest Sector 5, and we've closed off all entrances to Isaac City to prevent the suspect from escaping. Once the situation returns to normal, we'll reopen the city to the public."

A second Guardsman had stuck his head out of his squad car and yelling in a panic. "Chris! Turn on your radio!"

The first Guardsman, Chris, fumbled with the radio clipped to his right hip and, once he had it firmly in his hand, turned up the volume. It was one of those models that beeped once someone ended their transmission and had a talk button to start your own.

"-over here, Adam! I can't hold him off by myself! beep Negative. My MT is damaged. I can't move. Someone help Jake! beep Natasha here. I got it. Jake, where's he headed? beep Just took exit three! He's headed for Northwest Sector 2! beep Roger. That's not far. I'll cut him off! beep Don't get cocky, Natasha! That Raven's no pushover! Huh? Oh sh- beep." For a while, there was a long and heavy silence, which seemed to last forever. Then a feminine voice, filled with panic, broke it. "Jake? Come in! Please, Jake! beep."

Chris cursed under his breath, shut his radio off and ran toward the gate.

As David heard the transmission, he suddenly had a sickening feeling in his stomach. The Sunset Hotel was in Northwest 2. David began to fear that something horrible was going to happen. With his fear and curiosity tangled together, he suddenly bolted towards the gate's service entrance, completely ignoring the Guardsmen when they demanded him to stop. Some even tried to cut David off, but he ducked and weaved away from them and finally made it to the service entrance. He let the door stop his momentum by hitting it with the left side of his body, and then he flung it open, thankful that it wasn't locked or automated. He didn't even bother to close the door behind him, courteously being the last thing on his mind. He just wanted to see his father.

David always had a good sense of direction, but had he not been full of emotion and chased by two Guardsmen and someone had asked him if he knew where he was going, he probably would have said something along the lines of "Nope. Do you have a map?" David knew that the two Guardsmen were just a short distance behind him; when he stepped on a puddle, the splash of their feet came almost immediately after.

By sudden stroke of genius, David turned hard into a narrow alley. When one of the Guardsmen tried to follow, he turned late and hit his shoulder on the corner, falling over. The second nearly tripped over this partner, but continued the chase, running hard to regain the ground he lost.

As David weaved in and out of alleyways, he saw more of his surroundings and stated to get his bearings. It wasn't long until he found one of the two street names that he was looking for. After he made another hard turn into an alleyway that ran along it, he dared a look over his shoulder. No Guardsmen, no shouts, and no footsteps. He was all alone, except for the sound of explosions in the distance.

The sounds were getting louder now as he ran through the alleyways, and he was getting starting to get worn out. His lungs felt like they were on fire, his heart was ready to burst out of his chest and his legs begged me to stop and rest. Ignoring all of them, he continued running. The sounds were almost deafening now, and on impulse, he ran out of the alleyway.

David stopped just short of the sidewalk.

A gigantic metal foot was right in front of him, blocking his way. It was longer than a pickup truck, and so wide that it took up two lanes. It was half red and half black, and shined from the light coming from the street lamps.

David looked up to see what that foot was attacked to, and saw a enormous piece of machinery, with two thin yet maneuverable arms, two sturdy legs that seemed to fall on a thin line between armor and mobility, an intimidating yet simple-looking head with a large circular camera, two smaller cameras and a single, hornlike antenna, and, attached to it all, a solid-looking 'core', or chest, that seemed to stick out a bit horizontally along the middle. He was looking at an Armored Core! Not only was an AC the most advanced war machine in existence, but it was also the most versatile, thanks to its modular design.

David was in complete awe, staring at this thing that he had before only read about in magazines and heard about in the news. He couldn't stop staring at this red and black juggernaut before me. As his eyes slowly followed the AC's edges and curves, he saw something on its upper left arm. It had a decorative feel to it, sort of like a tattoo. The design and spots of the AC's paint job were slightly worn from what looked like the scars of a long and intense battle, but David was able to make out the design: a black billiard ball with a yellow "9" on it.

Movement from the corner of David's eye caught his attention and, looking left, he saw an MT with chicken-like legs and fingerless arms face the AC and fire off a missile from a back-mounted launcher. It screamed like a banshee as it flew straight at the AC. David suddenly realized that it was going to hit, but he had only enough time to turn around before the missile collided with the AC with a deafening explosion.

The explosion was too high to knock David off his footing, but his ears rang so loud that he feared that he had just lost his hearing. Suddenly, he felt a sensation just above his right jaw line. David instinctually brought his hand up to fell it. He sensed something warm, and when he took his hand away to look at it, he saw red. He was bleeding.

David had only a short moment to think about this when the ground began to shake and he heard strange, loud noises behind him that he had never heard before. He turned around to see the source, and again he was frozen in awe.

The AC was _moving_. It was dropping down to one knee just as naturally as a person would do. Next, it slowly raised its left arm and opened its hand. Then, two long metal pipes that were connected at each end by a hinge-like connection, were folded against each other and mounted on one end to the left side of the AC's back, swung over its shoulder and connected themselves to form a long, menacing cannon. The AC grabbed the barrel with its left hand, using it to aim.

David looked in the direction that the AC was aiming in, and suddenly the air around him froze and he felt a deep and profound terror consume him.

The MT had moved away and was now using the buildings at the end of the street as cover. After a moment it moved out of cover enough to expose one of it's arms. It's forarm opened up, exposing an opening in which some sort of energy was building.

But David wasn't paying much attention to the MT now, as he just realize what the MT was hiding behind. If the AC fired…

"No!" David screamed at the top of his lungs, fearing the worst, but the sound of his screams were downed out by the hellish hoar of that enormous cannon.

The cannon fired a huge rocket propelled grenade out through its long barrel and towards the MT. The round soared down the street and, on its way towards the MT's chest section, punched through the Setting Sun Hotel with a horrific explosion. It destroyed several floors , weakening the structure enough to make it slowly collapse. It made its way to the MT, where it finally detonated, destroying the MT and causing even greater damage to the Setting Sun Hotel.

David watched as the building burst into flames and began to collapse. Unable to speak, move, or grasp what was happening, he sank to his knees. Even the dull sensation of pain across his right cheek went unnoticed as he watched the flames dance over his family's meeting place. As the AC fled the area, its footsteps shaking the ground like small earthquakes, tears ran down David's eyes as he began to understand what had happened.

The Kilpatrick family, save for David and his uncle, were dead. All thanks to that accursed Raven. It was then that David, on his knees in an alley with blood and tears on his face, that he swore that he would kill him. He would kill the pilot of that AC, the one with the "Nine Ball", even if that meant dieing along with him.


	2. Chapter 2 Obsession

Bows I'm sorry. I seemed to have forgotten the disclaimer in Chapter 1. No one has caught me on it yet, but might as well...

**I am fully aware that I cannot claim ownership over anything except for my characters, my story, any origional aspects presented within said story, and my copies of various Armored Core games and soundtracks. Swim elsewhere, law-sharks.**

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David always wanted to pilot an MT. Even before back then he was fascinated by MTs. Back then…

"David! Break's not for two more hours! Quit slacking off!" The supervisor voice cut in though the com net. He always sounded livid on the radio.

"Roger, Boss," David responded in a cheery voice. "Just thinkin' 'bout Naomi. You know what I mean?" He lied, but David wanted something to take his mind of old memories, and starting something with one of his coworkers seemed to look like a good idea for a distraction.

"You wish, Mr. Blue Balls." Naomi said over the radio in a tone that was less then affectionate. All of the workers and Alex, the project supervisor, shared the same radio line. They had other frequencies, of course, but they usually used the same one to keep themselves entertained and informed. "Besides," Naomi continued, "you're way too short for me, kid."

Everyone on the line laughed, except for Alex. Heck, even David would have laughed, if it wasn't him she was referring to.

"Touché, you little viper. Touché." David replied. Although Naomi had neither the knowledge nor the occasion to know about such a thing, the insult in itself still stung a little.

Before Alex had the opportunity to yell at him again, David engaged the MT's boosters, which were mounted on its back and on the back of its calves. After gaining enough altitude to arrive at the third floor, he hovered above a reinforced I-beam, and as he slowly lowered his MT down, clamps opened up on the bottom of the MT's feet. Once he touched down, the clamps grabbed hold, after which David checked his footing. Finding it good, he switched to the support frequency and radioed in

"David, in position. Where's my spotter?"

After a short pause, another worker radioed in. "Negative on position, David. You're two sections west."

David cursed under his breath. He really hated walking on I-beams. It's too slow and too dangerous, but not because I-beams couldn't hold the weight of his MT. Hell, they were _made_ for this kind of stress. It was the actual walking that drove him nuts.

In a Muscle Trace System, your movements move whatever you're controlling. That, combined with eight buttons (two for each finger), and a voice-command system, allows the system to be rather versatile. However, in some cases, it made things harder than they should be. Not that I-beam walking was one of them, but David still hated it nonetheless.

Vertigo sucked.

David pressed a button with his right thumb, disengaging the clamp on the right foot. He then brought his left foot forward. He could feel the apparatus that he was strapped into move various part of his body in response, simulating the change in the center of balance of the MT. David moved his head down to move the main camera towards the ground so that he could see where his foot was going. In the short time that the MT's foot was in midair, He felt as though he was about to lose his balance. However, when it came back down, the sensation stopped and he wasted no time to reengage the clamps. David continued this pattern as he walked from one end of the building to the other, grumbling every step of the way about how it was protocol not to use his boosters within the buildings frame structure.

He had made it almost halfway there when Alex came on the line. "David, drop what you're doing and come down. We've got a problem."

After mentally going through his library of curses, David disengaged both clamps and stepped off the beam. As he descended, he used the MT's boosters to slow his own fall to prevent damage to the MT's legs once it landed and he made a self-check to make sure his knees were not locked. Once he hit the ground, the apparatus' feedback system applied force to his legs that was proportionately the same as the force applied to the MT's legs. Neither the MT nor David received any damaged, but the force of the impact stung nonetheless.

"Command. Open." David said in a monotone. The voice command system confirmed his command, releasing him from the apparatus and opening the hatch. He removed his helmet, leaving it attached to the apparatus, and walked over to Alex's trailer, wondering what he needed to talk to him about now as he opened the door.

Despite his temper over the radio, Alex was usually friendlier in person. "Ah, David, sit down". He did, and did his best not to slouch. "We've got a problem."

Alex never started that way if it was our fault. David wondered what was up, but he knew that he only had to wait for Axel to continue.

"Since you are the head of your labor group, I thought it would be appropriate to let you in on this first," he continued. David knew then that it was definitely something big, so he listened carefully as Axel went on. "It seems that Murikumo is continuing to expand their territory, and they've almost reached this sector. In fact, they'll reach the south sub-gate about tomarrow afternoon."

Murikumo was a large corporation, second only to Chrome, that mainly dealed in AC parts, combat MTs, various military hardware, advanced electronics, luxury cars, and had footholds in many other industries. Their territories rivaled Chrome's, and armed conflicts between the two corporations over borders were all too common.

What made this bad news was that Axel, David, and the rest of the workers were all employees of Chrome.

"Any word from the city Guard?" David asked. He couldn't help but sound nervous. The thought of Murikumo's military division being just a sector away from where they were was not a very pleasant one.

Alex leaned back in his chair and let out a long sigh. He then performed his own personal ritual that he reserved for when he was either deep in thought or was getting very serious. He reached into the chest pocket of his business shirt, took a cigarette out of the pack that he always carried with him, lit it up with a Zippo that rested on his desk, and took a long drag before he answered David's question.

"They'll be too busy with the evacuation. Chrome knows this, but they aren't sure if they'll be able to spare anybody to protect this place, as everyone's either trying to slow Murikumo's advance, forming up at the subgate, or enroute to provide reinforcements. Instead, they're giving us Mark 14 multi-purpose combat MTs so that we can defend ourselves if Murikumo gets over here. Now, I know you people aren't soldiers, but you've all had plenty of experience with the Muscle Trace System, right? The units they're shipping over work the same way, so don't worry 'bout it. They also said that they'll be sending in a new ECM device for us to use. They don't know how long this conflict will go on though, and if it does drag on, they might lose some ground. In which case, we might have to cover this place. So, I'm endin' the work day early, 'cause tomorrow might be hell. Tell the boys, okay David?

David couldn't believe his ears! They were construction workers, not soldiers! "Why the hell do we have to fight? We may be Chrome employees, but what are those execs thinking? We're no soldiers and you know it!"

Axel took another drag off his cigarette and took a small folder from his desk. It was labeled "Labor Group L21-7A". He opened the folder and spread out the first few pages across his desk. "Says here that besides construction work, your all trained in…"Basic Unarmed Defense", "MT Systems Operation", "Basic MT Maintenance/Repair" "E-Sit Defensive Combat" "E-Sit Defensive Tactics"…piloting a biped MT is no different from using your own body. It shouldn't be hard for you to at least stall for time."

David wasn't so sure about this. Sure, he did have plans to one-day walk on the field of battle. However, this was just too soon. He wasn't sure that he was ready. "Shouldn't we just be evacuated?"

"Who'll guard this place then?" Axel asked as though he was the only one in the room. "The Guard? Nope, busy. Chrome's military division? Can't rely on them. Their hands are full and they're short on pilots as it is. The earliest they could get more people here would be the morning of the day after."

"Is this place really that important?" David found himself asking.

"This project has already been disrupted three times!" Axel immediately snapped back. "We're already over budget! If we end up having to start over because of Murikumo either destroying or renovating it, then Chrome'll have to sell the land off to another corporation just to avoid further financial damage! Now get out of my office, tell your group, and go home"!

After trying several times to get the card reader to cooperate, David finally got the door to his apartment room open. The lights came on automatically as he walked in, and then dimmed enough so that he could just make out his surroundings. It was one of those two room jobs, one large room for living, eating and sleeping, and a smaller second room for the toilet and sink. The apartment building provided public showers and laundry, which were charge by the minute and by use, respectively. The carpet was stained and worn all over from the use of countless people before him, and the floor was littered with various clothes and junk under his ownership. The one and only window had a perfect view of the apartment building across the street, and the sounds of traffic could be heard even when the window was closed. But what really made the place his own as what he had done to the walls.

The walls were covered with the telltale signs of and all-consuming obsession. Newspaper clippings, Network printouts, amateur photographs, and a collage of other items that all had one subject in common: a Raven by the name of Hustler One, and his AC, Nineball. Ever since that tragic day, David endlessly researched and accumulated as much information on Hustler One as he could. Nevertheless, despite thirteen years of searching, he came up with nothing but Nineball's AC parts list, a large collection of media coverage concerning Hustler One's activities and appearances of Nineball, and a low-quality photograph of a man wearing a helmet that covered everything from the nose up.

The helmet he wore, which was used by all Ravens, was designed to allow the wearer to see and hear even though it covered almost their entire head. It accomplished this by using two durable cameras where the eyes were underneath and a series of small microphones around the helmet. The only thing that was not covered was the man's chin, mouth, cheeks, and the bottom of his nose. However, he was sure that he was Hustler One, because the emblem design between the two cameras was identical to the one on the shoulder of his AC's left arm. A black billiard ball with a yellow number "9" on it.

From what David could tell from the photograph, Hustler One was a middle-aged man about 6 feet tall and probably had a solid, well-defined built. His hair, if he had any, was too short to be visible with his helmet on, and his whole face was cold, emotionless, and had an aura of professionalism to it. Next to the photograph was a sketch of what David thought his whole face looked like after studying the photograph for hours.

David didn't bother to hang up his leather jacket; he simply threw it to the ground and walked in as usual. Without looking, David moved across a sea of clothes, wrappers, and miscellaneous junk to the TV. He turned on the TV with one hand, opened the cooler next to it with his left hand to get a cold one, and stood in front of the TV to watch the newscast.

"-despite the fact that they are poorly armed, they are determined to hold off Murikumo if they break through Chrome's line of defense. We now go live at the scene." The screen cut from the broadcast station to the entrance to a construction site. The vary one I was just working in.

Alex was on the screen, a microphone held near his mouth. "If Murikumo tries to absorb this site into their assets, I will make sure to send every unit they throw at us packing 'till reinforcements arrive. We will not stand by idly and let Murikumo take control of our site for use in their military campaign. This city desperately needs more housing, and, as citizens of Isaac City, we are determined to do what is right for Isaac!" As the news coverage continued, David later learned that Murikumo was planning to convert their project to an MT repair hanger to strengthen their recent expansion campaign.

It figures.

It also didn't help that Murikumo and Chrome were at each other's throats almost constantly. However, to deprive a rundown residential sector of badly needed housing in order to gain territorial assets and fuel military conquest was questionable in the public's eyes.

Losing interest in old news, David sat down on the side of his bed and pulled out his budget-priced laptop computer from underneath. Once it finished booting up, he wirelessly connected to the Network and ran a search on Lana Nielsen in various chat rooms. Lana Nielsen was a contact of David's that he had originally met sometime around his late teens. He was in the middle of a tense and fast-passed hack of a server that he thought would likely have information on Hustler One, when all of a sudden a message appeared on his screen from Lana saying "And just _what_ do you think _you_ are doing?" Eventually, he learned that she wasn't a part of corporate security, but was actually a part of the Raven's Nest.

The Raven's Nest was an underground organization of mercenaries who pledged allegiance to no one but themselves and took missions based solely on their own skills, values, and how good the pay was. With the way it was all set up, practically anyone could be a Raven without anyone else ever knowing, except of course for other Ravens and a handful of Nest employees. The Nest had their own internal rules and regulations, provided maintenance services and equipment shops for their Ravens, and was publicly sanctioned by many of the corporations, who saw the Ravens as a sort of militaristic temporary worker union. All of this effectively made The Raven's Nest a legal business.

David's original meeting with Lana was volatile to say the least, as she was a part of the Nest's confidentiality division. The Raven's Nest's confidentiality department, which is a part of their PR division, made sure that no one knew about anything that they shouldn't need to know about the Raven's Nest, including other Ravens. However, after she found out that he had plans to join the Nest once he could get his hands on an AC, the situation relaxed a bit, and Lana said that the Nest would take no action against him and that he would be welcome to join. They would even give financial assistance in the purchase of an economy class AC to get him started. In return, however, David had to keep his mouth shut about what he knew about other Ravens and had to stop snooping around 'till then. David readily agreed with this, and Lana kept an eye on him since then. She also helped him out from time to time while on his way to becoming a Raven, providing advice on how to prepare himself for the life of a Raven and sending him documents on AC operation and maintenance.

"Looking for me?" The message appeared on the screen suddenly while David was searching around, nearly filling the whole screen. She seemed to enjoy being both subtle and loud at the same time.

"Took you longer. Getting rusty?" David typed on his keyboard. His words did not appear on his screen, but he knew Lana was reading his keystrokes.

Her response appeared a little while after he finished typing. "Busy day. Some jackass hacked one of our servers. We're all running around trying to find the SOB. What's up?"

"CITC4." CITC4 stood for Chrome Isaac Television Channel Four, one of many news and entertainment channels ran in part by Chrome. There were others channels, of course, but most of the ones in Isaac were owned and operated by Chrome.

There was a long pause, and then she replied with "Looks like things are getting lively. You work there, right?"

"Yeah."

"Good luck. I'll be watching you. gtg."

David put his laptop away and walked into the bathroom. The size of it was small enough to require someone to press against the back wall in order to close the door properly. The room was bare, save for a sink, toilet, and a full-length mirror mounted onto the door. The reflected image a man in his mid-twenties, with short blond hair, well defined built, deep blue eyes, and two scars that seemed to form the number "7" on his right cheek stared back at David.

David allowed himself a moment to reflect on the events that had given him those scars as he traced them with his left hand, after which he went though the usual human hygiene routines and retired to bed earlier than usual.

He had to take a sleeping pill before he could fall asleep. He couldn't help thinking about how this was all too soon.

"Am I really ready?" David said as he slowly drifted off to sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

Author's note: Well, I've decided to forget about rewriting this one sentence since it was racking my brain. If you can find it, I'll give you a cookie (not really).

AN2: After this, I'll be at MCTI starting on the 13th, so don't expect anything till after I get back. I might surprise you though, if the workload isn't too bad. Don't count on it though.

AN3: Rough draft reader wanted! I'm cheap and broke, so I won't pay you, but I will credit you. YIM user a plus.

AN4: I've got my own forum up, titled "MidKnight's Office". Check it. Please. It's all lonely and in need of friends.

To Onikami-no-Shinobi: Yep, it sure is. And I do plan to see this though till the end. How long it'll take is a completely different story.

To Hiro Konobu: Glad you like it. Hope you like this one.

To Dra-Gan: um...you wouldn't happen to be my friend Jon would you? He's really into dragons so...anyway, I'm got mixed feeling about writing with this level of quality. On one hand it makes for a good read, and on the other hand it takes quite a while for me to write this much and then become confident enough with it to submit it. I just feel like I'm going too slow, y'know?

AN5: Grr...I can't seem to keep more than two empty lines empty, so I used a separator between Eclair's and David's naratives. All of my tabs were removed too, so I have to indent everything all over again in the editor. I said this in my profile and I'll say it again: this editor suxors.

AN6: ARGH! It removed my indentations AGAIN! THIS EDITOR FAILS! (I import all of my stuff from a master MSWord .doc file)

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Diclaimer: I do not own the rights to Armored Core. From Software owns it. I _do_, however, own any ideas that were not expressed by From Software (such as my characters and various aspects of this story's plot) and my own personal copies of the Armored Core video game series.

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**Armored Core: Vendetta**

**Chapter 3, Empty Shell**

Éclair could only feel whole on the battlefield.

Even now, breathing deeply from within the pressurized cockpit of her AC, surrounded by the smoking remains of what used to be Chrome's Mark 14s that composed their gate defenses, she felt a thrill that escaped explanation. It was all she lived for. It was the only thing she could live for. Everything else was lost.

Éclair never knew her parents. Instead, she was raised by the charismatic and idealistic leader of Struggle, an anti-Chrome terrorist group secretly backed by Murikumo Millennium, whose main goal was to ruin Chrome's public image and to financially and morally weaken Chrome. Their leader was like a father to her. They both delighted in each other's company, and shared their lives with each other as a real father and daughter would. He never did approve of her joining him and his comrades in battle, but he never once could stop her. She wanted to be by his side. Always.

Then Chrome found out the location of their hideout. They sent a Raven down into the winding tunnels of the abandoned mine that Struggle used as their home base and set him loose with orders to exterminate everyone. Éclair somehow survived the carnage that ensued, but not without loosing everything she held dear.

For a long time Éclair was on her own, doing all she could to survive. She made money as a soldier-for-hire, an assassin, and other means, memories of some forcefully buried into the darkest corners of her mind, where she kept them there undisturbed in hopes of forgetting that they ever happened. Every time she did something that she regretted in order to survive, she blamed it on that Raven. Even though, as a mercenary, she knew that he was only doing his job, she still could not forgive him for destroying what little life she had with Struggle.

As the years passed by, her hatred towards him gradually burned brighter, until she suddenly decided to become a Raven herself. As a Raven, she could find higher-paying jobs to afford more powerful and advanced equipment, and she might even cross paths with _him_. With her mind made up, she became a Raven almost immediately, taking the name of one of her adopted father's favorite desserts as her new alias. She picked Éclair both because of the relation to her foster father and because of its relation to lightning, and, in a sense, speed, in another, archaic language. After all, it was her father who said both "Speed is a powerful force in battle. If you can think, move, fight and run faster than your enemy, then half the battle is already yours" and "Don't worry. You'll be alright as long as you're not hit".

She quickly gained an amazing reputation among both the Ravens and the corporations as a highly experienced and skilled combatant, both with and without an AC. But money and reputation meant nothing to her. All she wanted was a chance to kill _him_.

Then, fate delivered.

She was just about to complete her contract to destroy a Chrome supply base when _he_ showed up on her scanners. Éclair immediately dropped what she was doing and attacked him with all of her might. The battle was long and favored neither of them, but Éclair managed to deal the final blow when her adversary made a critical mistake.

She had finally avenged the death of her family and friends, and for a short while, Éclair felt as though a large weight had been lifted off of her shoulders. But soon after, Éclair began to feel a profound emptiness growing deep inside her. She no longer could find the reason to live anymore, for she had no identity, no family, and now nothing to drive her forward. Lost and alone, she tried to take her own life numerous times, but each time she was unable to bring herself to do it. She couldn't help but think of how utterly shameful she'd fell if she went though with it, and then found herself face to face with her foster father on the other side With nothing else left for her to do, she continued to fight as a Raven, waiting for a good place to die.

But, even then, she simply couldn't allow herself to die without a fight. The thrill of battle was just too much, and she could not just allow someone to kill her, even if she tried. It seemed, to Éclair at least, that only someone stronger than her in every way could truly release her from her own meaningless existence.

"Heads up! We're opening the gate!" A voice on the radio shouted.

Suddenly, the massive wall blocking the exit of the highway tunnel opened up, revealing a vast city filled with tall buildings and smoothly paved streets. Moonlight shined into the tunnel as the walls two halves continued to separate, stopping with a resounded thud once the tunnels entrance was fully opened.

"We're in." The squad leader said over the radio with a hint of excitement. "All that's left now is to secure the surrounding area. Raven!"

Éclair immediately stood her AC to attention. Even though she wasn't a soldier, she always showed respect for whoever commanded her in battle. Her father taught her to show respect for your commander, and she rarely, if ever, went against anything that he had taught her.

"Go to your next objective as per your contract. I'm sorry, but I can't give you any support. We took too many casualties before you arrived. Can you handle it on your own?"

Éclair chucked a bit, and then responded over the radio with her natural, lightly accented voice. "Of course. I will only be gone momentarily." She then walked her AC towards a nearby Chrome construction site, one of her mission objectives.

It didn't take long for Éclair to get close enough to the construction site to see it through her AC's main optical sensor. But she had no time to size up her target, as alarms went off from within her cockpit.

"Caution: fire control system error" The feminine voice of her AC's main computer spoke as related semitransparent displays popped up on her visor. "Caution: radar error. ECM confirmed. Unable to compensate."

An ambush? "Command: engage combat mode," Éclair shouted quickly.

"Combat mode engaged." The main computer automatically armed her small, back mounted rocket launchers, and brought the two plasma cutters that made up the AC's hands on standby while Éclair was free to turn her AC around, trying to find either the source of the jamming, or one of the MTs that were trying to ambush her. If they were MTs, that is.

Nothing.

Éclair suddenly felt a chill up her back. If there was anything she didn't like, it was being snuck up on. She preferred to be the one doing the ambushing. "Command: engage night vision."

Although the amount of ambient light was enough to go without it, Éclair did not want to take chances. MTs were nothing special. They were easy and cheap to manufacture, simple to maintain and pilot, and were specially designed for a specific purpose. Nevertheless, MTs were still inferior to an AC. But, in the hands of a skilled pilot and a knowledgeable commander, it wouldn't be impossible for a team of them to take out an AC. In addition, MTs, with their smaller size, were more suited to maneuvering in a dense urban environment, whereas her AC was an 18-meter giant, which worked better in a more wide-open environment.

Of course, if it was an AC that was lurking about, then Éclair was in for real trouble.

Gradually, Éclair's view changed from a world of darks and grays into a pallet of green. Lines, surfaces, and structures were easier to make out, allowing her to get a better feel for her surroundings. She noticed that she was in the center of a four-way intersection, and slowly began to feel as though she was being watched.

Suddenly, a faint explosion was picked up by her audio sensors, which replayed the sound back to the speaker in the back of her cockpit. Before she could react, a sudden force hit the back of her AC. Éclair was pushed forward by the muscle tracer's feedback system, and Éclair responded by putting her left foot forward to regain her balance. Her AC followed suit and recovered its own balance in the same manner that she did.

"How dare you!" Éclair shouted as she spun around and fired a rocket from each of the two launchers. The two rockets flew straight and true down the street until they were gone from view. A faint explosion was heard later, and a small display came up, blinked twice, and then went away. "NFI" No fuel impact. The rockets had run out of propellant and had fallen like boulders, detonating when they hit the ground. She had missed.

Another faint explosion and Éclair was once again shot from behind. She turned around and fired again, but again she hit nothing.

Éclair was beginning to worry. She had to figure out where the shots were coming from. Although the shots didn't seem to cause much damage, they nevertheless seemed to be highly accurate. Running for cover without radar to help her pick a safe location to run towards wasn't a good idea, because if she tried it now, she would risk running straight into a trap. She needed to gauge the trajectories of the snipers, and quickly.

* * *

David held his breath as he tried to steady his aim. He never would've thought that Murikumo would send in a Raven to deal with them. But, all things considered, he thought that his rag-tag team was doing fairly well picking away at the AC. The ECM generators that were given to them were working wonderfully, their own units were unaffected by their own jamming, all of the power in the city was off to cut down visibility, their MTs were colored to be difficult to spot with night vision, and that Raven seemed reluctant to charge. 

_ Does he think we're trying to lure him into an ambush?_ David laughed out loud from within the cockpit of his sniper-type Mark 14._ That Raven gives us way too much credit!_

David and his crew had decided earlier on a firing order, where one person would fire while the others were either moving to a new position, changing magazines, or aiming. David had just fired off his first shot, but just as he was about to move from the roof of an office building to his next firing position, the pilot must have decided to throw caution to the wind or something as AC broke out into a run.

"Shit!" one of his friends shouted over the radio rapidly. "I'm still heading for cover! He's gonna see me!"

"I got it," David said calmly as he brought his MT's sniper rifle up. Since the Raven was running directly away from him. He had to make the shot count. Taking angle, speed, and distance into account, David aimed at the AC and started to climb though magnification levels.

"Hurry and fire, David!"

David steadied his aim, held his breath, and fired.

The round struck the back of the AC's knee precisely. The AC stumbled, momentarily off balance, turned, and then fired in David's general direction. However, the two rockets were fired parallel to the ground, and David, being has high as he was, could not have cared less about the Raven's blind counterattacks. Also, the building in front of him took the hit, so he didn't have to worry about having the building he was on collapsing from beneath him.

The thought of buildings collapsing triggered old memories, and David worried if he was playing a hand in a similar catastrophe, fighting in a place like this. Then he remembered about the evacuation, which eased his mind somewhat.

Shaking himself back to reality, David checked up on his target.

The AC had stopped, and was now looking around.

David brought his rifle back up for a second shot, but just as he was about to fire, he was overcome with fear.

The AC was looking straight at him.

"Oh shit!" David shouted as two rockets came screaming towards him. He immediately jumped backwards, off the buildings roof, and slowed his decent with his boosters. A loud explosion coming from where he just was told him that, had he panicked any longer, he would have been killed.

After David touched down, he checked his radar to see where the AC was.

No sooner then when he looked at the display, the thunderous sounds of the AC's boosters told him exactly what he needed to know: he couldn't outrun it.

David knew that he would only have one chance to hit the AC's left knee again. If it didn't disable it, then he was a goner. But first, he had to anticipate which way the Raven would come from, then move away so that the Raven would not see him once the his AC reached where he was now.

David panted nervously as he loaded a fresh, full clip while his eyes darted from his HUD to his radar display, ready to retreat as soon as the AC moved to go around the building.

_ What's it gonna be; the left, or from the right? Wait. Didn't the sound of his boosters change? Now he's not even using them. The hell?_

David checked his radar display again. The AC wasn't moving. It was just standing there._ Is it just waiting for me?_ But then he noticed that the symbol was blue.

_ From above!_

David looked up to see the AC standing on the roof of the building that he was just on, staring down towards his MT. Two beams of energy the length of its arms appeared from where it's hands should have been, and it began to drop down towards David.

David hit his boosters, trying desperately to move away from the reach of the AC's plasma cutters as it landed in front of him. Nevertheless, one of the beams succeeded in cutting completely through his MT's right arm with as much difficulty as it would take to rip apart wet cardboard.

Rifle and metal forearm now lying on the ground in front of him, David found himself short on options. All he had was a plasma cutter that was mounted to his left forearm, but there was no way that he could match this Raven in a blade fight. He'd only have one shot. _But this blade isn't nearly as powerful enough to breach the cockpit. I'll just have to try for the sensors!_

As the AC rose back onto its feet, David lunged forward with his left arm extended, and just as the Raven deftly sliced that arm off as well, David activated his plasma cutter. With a sharp, indescribable roar, the cutter came alive and sent a sword-like beam of energy straight at the AC's head section, piercing the center camera and melting the components around it, effectively blinding the AC.

David's feelings of triumph were short-lived, however. The AC was still operational, albeit disoriented, and David was now completely defenseless. With a now armless MT, David opened up the boosters to as high as they could possibly go, with no regard to the stress to his generator or to the booster's integrity. With the added thrust, David attempted to ram into the AC, which was easily twice his MT's size.

The tremendous sound of the impact resounded throughout the city of Isaac. The AC staggered, almost lost its footing, but regained it. David's MT, which was on the verge of overheating, fell to the ground in front of it. David tried desperately to bring his damaged MT to it's feet, but without arms he found it impossible. Slowly, the AC brought up its blade, ready to bring it down on the defenseless MT. David heard the roar of it activating, and had to call up a rear camera to see it, as his MT was laying face-first. He stared at the brilliant light of the AC's blade and, knowing that there was nothing he could do, closed his eyes in anticipation of the murderous heat he was soon going to experience.

David thought of his father.

Well, there wasn't much to think about really. His father spent nearly every waking hour of every day at work. Whenever anyone asked what he did that day, he always went on to describe various conversations and interactions he had with other employees. If he had a meeting, all he said about it was "and then I went to a meeting" and just went on, frequently ending with "oh yeah, I also made some great coffee". It didn't take long for people to stop asking. That is, except for David and his mother. But what was different between them was how they reacted. David would always shower his father with questions, such as "do you need a key card, or do they use those laser eye things?", "what's the boss like?", "what was the biggest MT you ever saw?", "Did you make anything new?" and the like. Some questions he answered, others he didn't, saying only "Shhh…it's a secret, kiddo". His mother, on the other hand, asked nothing. Whenever he came home from work, she had his food and bed ready for him. She didn't seem to mind that he left frequently, and stayed for no more than a few days at a time.

If there was one thing that David did remember about his father, it was that he loved both MTs and ACs, and that when talking about them sometimes said pasionetly "but something still needs to be done on the other side of the spectrum". David still didn't know what he meant by that.

_ Maybe I'll ask him once I get to the other side._

Suddenly, an explosion blared through the MT's speakers, causing David to winch from the sheer volume of it. Daring a look at certain death, he saw the once menacing AC wobbling awkwardly; its left leg severed at the knee. After a while, the AC toppled down onto the pavement with a resounding thud that was heard throughout the entire sector.

"You owe me a keg, Mr. Blue Balls," teased a feminine voice from the radio.

"Naomi? Is that you?" David hollered back over the comm.

"Take a wild guess!" Naomi replied sarcastically. "Hurry and finish him off before he can cause anymore trouble!"

Knowing that the AC could not get up now that one of its legs were destroyed and that it had no real "hands" to brace itself with, David commanded his disabled MT to shut down. Once the Muscle Tracer released him, David was able to take out a set of color-coded keys from his right hip pocket and, after using a gray key to retrieve a pistol from one of the storage compartments, David exited the MT.

_ Ready or not, here I come!_


End file.
